


Riveted

by Vault_of_Glass



Series: Opportunities for Leisure [9]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Breathplay, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Mirror Sex I guess, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Fluff, kinkmeme fill, would be the term
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7106728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_of_Glass/pseuds/Vault_of_Glass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MacCready stumbles upon what might be the last unbroken mirror in the Commonwealth and... well, you can guess how it ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riveted

River kicked over an empty wastebasket, grumbling under her breath in disappointment. She'd wasted the better part of an hour combing through the old Fallon's department store, with nothing to show for it but mutant blood on her boots and a few stray bottlecaps. With the sinking sensation of dashed hopes, she ducked into the last set of fitting rooms, shotgun at the ready in case they'd left anybody standing.

The light from her Pip-Boy illuminated the dark room with a red glow as she scanned the floor, growing increasingly frustrated. The spare few garments left abandoned in the stalls were all too destroyed to wear, the once-lovely colors faded and dull.

She stepped back out into the hallway, reluctant to return to the lobby where MacCready was surely slouched against a wall, rifle over his lap, sighing loudly every few seconds in the off-chance she was somewhere in earshot. If he really minded, he'd say so - that was the wonderful thing about MacCready. He just liked playing impatient because he knew it irked her.

"All right, you win this time," River conceded with a pitiful sigh as she rounded the corner back into the lobby. When MacCready wasn't immediately visible, she felt a squeeze of brief panic. Her eyes swept the open room with greater focus until she spotted a door in the far corner slightly ajar. "RJ?" she called, palming her shotgun as she drew nearer.

"In here," his voice came drifting out.

She toed the door open and found MacCready in a small office, face-to-face with his own reflection in a floor-length fitting room mirror that was propped back against the wall. When she stepped up to his side, River realized it was nearly perfectly intact - a rare condition to find anything in these days, let alone something so fragile. "Well, you found more than I did."

MacCready tore his gaze from the mirror to meet hers, black pupils eclipsing the blue of his irises to slivers. It wasn't just a look, it was a _look_ , heavy and hungry and wanting. She felt her cheeks start to grow warm as he stepped closer to her, his eyes dropping to her mouth. His hands slid over hers, pulling the gun from her grasp to set it aside. Her ass hit the edge of the desk and then he was kissing her, one hand drifting up the slope of her leg, the other braced against the metal surface beside her.

He kissed her fervently, teeth pulling at her bottom lip before soothing the sting over with his tongue. Eyes slipping closed, she flicked her tongue at his teeth and whined greedily when he nipped her softly in response. Her breath left her in a shaky huff as his mouth hunted down her jaw to her throat, where he sank his teeth in harder. She moaned his name, burying her fingers in his hair and knocking the cap from his head.

Pulling back, MacCready took a moment to search her face. His lips twitched toward a smile. "You are so damn beautiful," he sighed, dipping his head to suck at the other side of her throat, muffling his voice there. "And so _fucking_ sexy." His hands caught her at the hips and tugged her closer. He rumbled a noise of approval when she wound her legs around him.

"And here I thought you were gonna be a total brat about having to wait."

"Later," MacCready responded without missing a beat, his voice distant, distracted as he focused on loosening the straps of her armor. With a twist of her arms, she helped him pull the metal plates off and toss them aside. Once he'd pulled her shirt up over her head, he kissed her again, started shrugging impatiently out of his coat.

River bit back a groan, the throaty sound breaking loose when he pushed his hips closer, and she felt how hard he was for her. She clutched his shirt in her fist and drew in a deep breath, lightheaded from all the abrupt sensation. "RJ," she breathed, surprise and laughter in her voice. "I thought you hated shopping."

"This isn't _shopping_." She could practically hear him rolling his eyes even as he worked at the hooks of her bra. Classic MacCready: never too distracted to complain. A triumphant smile broke out over his face when he pulled her bra loose. "It's a waste of time while you cry over destroyed clothes."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he chose that moment to suck a bruise into the curve of one of her breasts, and the abrupt pulling pain stole the words from her tongue.

MacCready felt River's fingers tug hard at his hair, with frustration she voiced in a rough whine as he bit and lapped at her skin. He worked his way down her breasts, to dusky pink nipples that pebbled under his mouth, his fingers unfastening the button of her pants. Her hips gave an impatient wiggle to help him peel the material down her legs.

Fuck, he loved her, with every last ounce of his _being_ he loved her. She'd walked into this cramped little office all worked up and disappointed, and moments later she was naked and whimpering beneath him, legs hooking him closer by the hips. Nobody had ever wanted him like River did - hungrily, near constantly, with a craving bordering on desperation. And maybe this was just the sexual appetite of a twenty-two-year-old talking, but he could never deny her, no matter how exhausted or frustrated or filthy from the wastes they might be; he'd fuck her every day for the rest of their lives if he could get away with it.

Her bare legs met the cool desk, startling a soft breath out of her. She leaned back on her hands, amber eyes shining down at him when he knelt between her knees. Her gaze flickered suddenly up over his shoulder to the mirror, and she stared at her reflection with mild surprise, as if she'd forgotten it was there. Then she glanced back down at him, and her lips twisted up at the end in recognition.

He nodded distractedly, between teething kisses up the slope of her thigh that made her moan and squirm. One of her hands came up to wind into his hair again, nails scratching lightly at his scalp at the sensation of his tongue and teeth on her skin.  
  
Watching the frenzy in her expression when she came was always the best fucking part of his day. And some part of him wanted her to witness it, see firsthand what he saw, understand how fucking _beautiful_ she was when she fell apart. He'd stumbled into the office looking for caps, and then he'd discovered the mirror, and all he could think of was watching River in it as he fucked her.

MacCready pulled River to the edge of the desk and let out a strangled groan at the sight of her glistening folds, his cock straining for friction in his pants. He couldn't form the right words, thoughts racing too fast to pin down. _Need this, need her, been thinking about it all fucking day_ and then he dragged his tongue up the length of her sex, and she gave a sharp gasp above him as her hips twitched beneath his hands.

He would never for the rest of his life forget the first time he got to do this for her. After the big frozen nap, she was _sensitive_ \- every touch, even an inexperienced one like his, was shock and flame to her long-neglected body, and if not for her hands at the back of his head urging him closer, he would've worried she was in pain from all the cries and shrieks she let loose.

He closed his lips over her hooded bud and sucked gently, flicking his tongue feather-light against her. Loved the feeling of her slick folds parting under his tongue and the faint taste of her, every single one of the delicious noises she made.

"Jesus _fuck_ , you are - so _good_ at that," River bit out between heavy panting, and he felt her legs slide over his shoulders, drawing him in closer.

Fuck if it didn't get much better than this, the woman he loved moaning his praises, her thighs clenched and trembling over his shoulders, fist pulling desperately at his hair. He traced his fingertip down her folds, hinted at pushing into her but held back for now, smirking when her hips bucked impatiently in response. Drew circles with his tongue that made her stiffen and gasp.

_Yeah, this is exactly what I fucking needed._

River fought to keep her eyes open and watch her reflection like she knew he wanted her to, gnawing on her bottom lip. She'd never seen her own expression like this, brows arched up as if in pain, mouth spilling open without her control. She liked that MacCready could do that to her, and she _loved_ the sight of his head between her thighs as he worked her with his mouth, her pale fingers threading through tawny hair, the sensation of his fingernails digging delightfully into her skin.

He had a clever tongue, her MacCready, and he had gotten very good with it. Maintaining eye contact with her reflection became increasingly difficult the nearer he brought her to climax, her eyes fluttering with each blinding starburst of pleasure, interrupting her view of the mirror. She was forced to witness the image of herself in glimpses, whenever she could summon the will to force her eyes back open.

Her reflection gasped and gazed back at her. She looked sweaty and frantic, her eyes glazed over, hair sticking damp to her temples. She felt his mouth pulling light suction, tongue rolling up over her clit, the slight scratch of his facial hair against her sensitive skin. She tugged at his hair, holding him close, and heard him groan against her in response.

"Oh, god, that's good," River whined, hips flexing as he lapped determinedly at her. "I'm - fuck, I'm close."

MacCready swiped his tongue over her folds, exhaling hard against her skin, and she was sure he would need to breathe soon, but she was close - _so close, very close_ \- and then he closed his lips around her clit and sucked hard and she cried out as she tipped over into orgasm.

In the mirror, she watched her own body arch back, mouth stretching open into a breathless scream. Her normally pale skin was flushed with exertion, nipples pink and taut. She looked wild and unwound, a shudder of pleasure seizing through her whole body, and that was the last thing she saw before her eyes slipped closed. When the shocks of ecstasy started to fade, and his tongue on her became too much, she used her grip in his hair to pull him away.

MacCready reluctantly lifted his head, dragging in a deep breath of air. And he looked up at her like a man lost in worship, lips and mouth shining as he gasped for breath. He licked the taste of her from his lips and grinned, lifting to his feet.

"Yes, I get it, you're very good at that," she approved dryly, earning herself a boyish laugh.

"Pretty good at other things, too," he muttered, the smirk still on his face.

River pulled impatiently at his clothing, tugging his shirt up over his head and sighing in relief when she had his bare skin in her hands. He angled his head back, offering the column of his neck, and she felt the groan in his throat when she closed her lips around his pulse point. One of his hands returned to the dripping heat of her sex, fingers questing, pushing in and filling her up and _oh_ \- he was perfect, he was pleasure and delight and she felt him in her every heartbeat.

"Need you, baby," she whimpered against his skin, between suckling bites at his neck and shoulders.

"Yeah," he agreed in a rough voice as he fumbled with his belt. River rolled onto her feet and moved around to the other side of the desk. In the mirror, she watched him slowly skirt the desk and wrap his arms around her waist. His hands were rough and warm on her stomach, and she felt his mouth at her back, trailing kisses along the line of her shoulders. She rolled her hips, pressing herself back against the erection caught in his pants, coaxing an astonished hiss out of him.

River hummed in satisfaction and braced herself against the desk to push back with more urgency, seeking the other delicious noises he made that she loved so much. His breath tickled her skin when he exhaled, leaning his head against her shoulder as he pushed his pants down his hips.

Lifting her head, she stared at her reflection, cheeks pink with impatience. She heard him chuckle behind her, and then his head appeared over her shoulder in the mirror, meeting her gaze with those baby blues she adored, blown-out and heavy-lidded with lust.

"Fuck," he groaned at the sight of her.

They both watched his hand move up her stomach to the curve of one of her breasts, his thumb rolling over a pink nipple, perfect friction that sent twinges of heat down her spine. He dropped his gaze, bending his knees to angle himself behind her. She felt his cock pushing hard and heavy between her thighs and leaned forward, hands splayed out over the desk, eyes locked on their reflection. And then he slid in, slowly, _slowly_ , so she felt every agonizing inch of him, drawing strangled moans out of both of them. And when his hips finally stilled, she savored how fucking _full_ she always felt with him inside of her like this.

"Fuck," she agreed, slumping forward onto her elbows. She felt the weight of his gaze and glanced up at the mirror, finding his eyes on her reflection.

MacCready dragged his palm down the curve of her spine, hips giving a lazy thrust, slow and easy. He left teething kisses at the base of her neck, her hair in his fist, just firm enough for her to feel the pressure of his hold. Even the most delicious of pleasures needed an edge of pain, and god bless him, he really knew it. "River," he moaned, setting a tremble in her knees. She loved his voice around her name, that whispered plea, that reverent prayer. Then he straightened again, his hands at her hips, gripping the generous flesh there possessively.

It was really a treat, watching his reflection as MacCready fucked her. She got to see every tensing muscle in his body behind her, his stomach, his hips, his arms and shoulders, _fuck_ , she'd always been weak for his shoulders. And he was so delightfully expressive, something like laughter in his voice as he dipped his head to nip at her shoulder. "Love you," he mumbled, nuzzling at the curve of her neck.

River's answering laugh was soft and throaty as she pulled one of his hands to her mouth, kissing his fingers with unmistakable tenderness. "Love you, too, handsome. Now come on. Show me what it looks like when you fuck me senseless."

MacCready licked his lips and broke out in a grin, shifting one of his feet and then sliding back into her with a swiftness that wrenched a moan from her throat. "There," he said, smirking, at the brief twist in her expression, brows shooting up and lips parting around a gasp. "Fuck, that's it. So damn pretty. I could fuck you all day, beautiful." He pushed deeper, one calloused hand at the small of her back. White hot pleasure coiled tight at the base of her spine, pulsing with each time he slid into her.

A particularly rough thrust pitched her flat against the desk, the cold metal chilling her skin and the rosy peaks of her nipples. She hissed between her teeth, losing sight of her reflection as her eyes slipped closed, lost in sensation: MacCready's rough fingertips trailing down her back, and the sweet, sweet burn of stretching around that _perfect cock_ when he filled her, over and over.

"Shit, _shit_ , baby, that's good," she whimpered, scratching uselessly at the desk. Her thighs coiled and tensed like a spring, growing weaker at the apex of each thrust. When she could finally scrape together the focus, she willed her eyes back open.

MacCready was watching every line and angle of her body with rapt attention. He caught her by the arm, twisted it gingerly over her back, forcing her body into an upward curve. Her breasts swung with every slap of his hips against hers, her mouth caught open in a voiceless cry of pleasure. A hungry, strangled sound rumbled in his throat, then he gave another sharp thrust and she saw stars.

He looked like something she'd dreamed up, all lean, tensing muscle under tan skin and scars, jaw clenched in concentration as he fucked her. She reached back, blindly, until she felt the planes of his stomach beneath her fingertips, the trail of tawny hair that she'd followed so many times before with her mouth. With his name on her tongue, she rode out each thrust of his hips, each crashing wave of boneless pleasure. She watched herself slowly unwind in the mirror, lips parting around puffs of breath, shaping the syllables of his name, short and high and frantic.

Her body shuddered at his next thrust, the pressure twisting into something sweeter, something sharper, the vague hint of orgasm solidifying into a promise.

MacCready liked to think he was pretty perceptive - he was a sniper, after all, and a damn good one at that. After years wandering the wastes with his eye to a scope, he'd trained himself to stay quiet and observe, to wait and watch. And he'd spent more time than he'd like to admit watching River.

So he knew she was close. Or, he supposed, he _felt_ how close she was. He could hear her nails scraping along the desk, the little catch at the end of each panting breath, and every time he slid home she whimpered and clenched around him. In the mirror, her eyes rolled back behind fluttering eyelids as she panted for breath. She had fucking perfect breasts, pressed obscenely against the desk, teasing him with just a glimpse of pink nipples when she pushed her hips eagerly back against him.

MacCready ducked his head, watching his cock disappear inside of her and slide back out, slick and shining with her arousal. Her hips trembled in his hands and her thighs seized up as she came, letting out a piercing wail. "Fuck, River, fuck," he groaned, mesmerized by her reflection and the breathtaking way she tightened and squeezed around him. She shut her eyes, digging into the back of her hand with her teeth in a halfhearted attempt to keep herself quiet. Her hair was soft in his grip - _how does she keep it so fucking soft?_ \- and with a heaving breath, she gasped his name, eyes blinking back open once her shuddering body had finally fallen still again.

"Beautiful," he sighed, lovingly. "Absolutely fucking beautiful." Her skin was warm and flush with sweat beneath his fingertips as he traced them down her spine. She pushed herself up with shaky arms, rolling over onto her back. The sight of her white hair spilling over the dark metal made his cock twitch, always hard for her, wasn't sure what it was about the hair that did it for him - just that it was so uniquely her, otherworldly and ethereal, like some superhero, stepped out of a comic book and into his life. And now this walking fantasy was spread out naked over a desk, slick with want for him, gazing up with heavy-lidded hunger in the copper-gold of her eyes.

River braced a bare foot against his shoulder, biting back a giggle when he kissed her ankle and his hand drifted higher up her leg. His fingers traced the topography of the burn scar that spanned the lower half of her leg, a wound she'd gotten at the interchange - fighting for him, raining destruction down on the gunners and leaving nothing but ash and smoke in her wake.

She hooked her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, tugging him down by the shoulder into a kiss. The desk was cold beneath his palms, but her body was warm, always warm, and when he slid into her again - scorching hot. Groaned at the feel of her around him, her fingers tugging at his hair, teeth at his throat, latching onto him with everything she had. Staking her claim with love bites and scratch marks - _mine, all mine_ , she wrote it over his neck, his back, his shoulders, and he wished they would stay there forever and always mark him as hers.

He'd said as much once, in the hazy warmth of afterglow, tangled up together under the slowly spinning fan in her quarters at the Castle. Hancock on the other side of her, lighting a cigarette, his arm thrown over her hip as she curled up into MacCready's side. Her fingers were tracing the purple bruise she'd sucked into his shoulder, rimmed with red from her lipstick. She frowned regretfully until she felt his hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see the grin on his face.

_I like 'em. 'Sides, I'm tough. I can take your little teeth and claws all over me. . . ._

He remembered Hancock's rasping chuckle. _You couldn't hurt us if you tried, kitten._

_No, but it's cute when you worry._

And River laughed, pressing gentle kisses to the marks she'd left behind, lips cherry red against his skin. _Well, you know where to find me when they fade. I can always make more._

MacCready planted a hand on the desk to support his weight as he sucked at her throat, groaning when she writhed underneath him, cunt squeezing around his cock. "RJ," she breathed, her hands sliding over the line of his shoulders. Spellbound by the expressions that passed over her face, he thrust in to the hilt and held there, watched her gasp and squirm and felt her fingernails, scraping down his biceps. He was surprised he fit sometimes, she was so small, but her hands moved to his waist, a whine in her throat as she tried to urge him back into motion.

"Damn, you feel so good," he breathed against her jaw, scraping the blunt edge of his teeth there and rolling his hips. Her body gripped and squeezed at him every time he dragged his cock out, searing like tight, liquid heat when he pushed back in. "Where've you been all my life?"

Her laughter seemed to spill out of her, a flash of white teeth in her smile. "Frozen," she panted, then, " _ohhh, fuck_ \- in a fucking _vault_ , you _shit_."

"Mmn." Biting back a smirk, he ran a hand down the soft planes of her stomach to her slick folds, fingertips tracing where she stretched around his cock. "You don't feel frozen," he said as his thumb found the sensitive bud of her clit. "You feel _warm_." He sucked at her pulse point, felt it racing beneath her skin. "And wet, and . . . _fuck_ \- perfect."

River whined, a needy, desperate sound. He swore he could feel her clench around him every time he spoke, getting off on the sound of his voice. He gripped her hair in his fist and trailed his lips up her jaw to the shell of her ear. "And the way you _taste_ -"

"Fuck!" she gasped, shuddering. He planted a few last teething kisses over her shoulders before rising to his full height. Taking her hips in his hands, he pulled her closer, driving as deep as he could go. Her nails bit into his skin as she cried out, head thrown back. The long snowy silk of her hair draped down over the back of the desk like a curtain. Tears sprung up at the edges of her eyes, and the sight of one rolling down her cheek momentarily cleared the fog of lust from his mind.

"S'good," she promised, catching the concern on his face. Her hands groped for his wrist, and he let her pull his hand to her mouth, nearly choking on a breath when she closed her lips around two of his fingers and sucked. He felt her tongue stroke the calloused pads and the seams of his knuckles.

"Fuckin' Christ, River," he groaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, losing himself in the overlapping waves of pleasure, her pulsing walls around his cock and that devilish, talented mouth sucking at his fingers -

And then suddenly River was pushing him away with her hands and feet. He pulled back immediately, brows pushing together in worry. "You okay?"

River clambered to her feet, and a devious smile was all the warning he got before she grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him bodily back over the desk. He landed hard against the cool metal, huffing out an annoyed "Hey!" as she crawled on top of him and latched onto his throat with her teeth like a predator, feeding on her prey. _She just fuckin' hunted me_ he thought indignantly, and then she was sliding the heat of her sex over his cock, lazy, patient strokes back and forth, hinting at pushing down but never taking him deeper. She smiled, wicked and lovely as she teased him, because she knew he liked working for it - knew him like waves know shores - and she was nothing if not accommodating.

She pinned his shoulders to the desk with her hands, white hair spilling down and tickling his ribs when she leaned forward to kiss him, sinking down onto his cock as she went. He fidgeted restlessly beneath her, squeezing the warm, soft flesh of her thighs in his hands. She didn't let him rush her, not now or ever, always liked to take her sweet time with the whole ordeal and _god_ he loved her for it. He felt her breath in warm puffs against his neck, then the press of her teeth again, blunt and straight.

She bit him at the curve of his neck and held him there between her teeth, wiggling her hips down those last few precious inches until they were flush against each other. Her fingers gripped a fistful of his hair and she groaned into his skin, shuddering above him.

River let out a breathy laugh between kisses to his shoulder. Her fingertips trailed lazily over his chest, tracing muscle and ribs, scars and sun-bronzed skin. She made another pleased little noise and smiled down at him. "You look good on your back."

He groaned when she lifted her hips and slid slowly back down. " _Shit_ \- you just like beating me up."

Her lips parted around a sultry laugh. "Maybe a little." She rolled her hips in a languid circle, watching his throat swallow empty air in response, a halted sigh escaping from between his teeth. Head tilting back, she closed her eyes and rocked her hips, sighing when the hard weight of his cock shifted inside of her. " _Oh_." And he laughed at her, smug fucker, reaching up to trace the hard peak of one of her nipples, making her twitch and squirm on top of him. Then he sat up, and she felt his mouth at the base of her throat, tongue lashing out at her skin.

In the mirror, River drank in the lean shape of his torso - the slim waist and curve of his spine, broad, fit shoulders and below them, the backs of his arms that she felt warm and secure around her. His head was buried in her throat, mouth latched onto her, and over the slope of his shoulder she found her own gaze, wide and wild, the gold-brown nearly blotted out by her pupils. There was something beautiful about seeing her pale fingers over his tan skin and tawny hair, the shift of his muscles every time he moved.

MacCready hunted lower with his mouth, finding the tight peak of a nipple and sucking it into his mouth, and the stroke of his tongue over the sensitive nerves made her whimper and wriggle deeper onto him.

"RJ," she whispered, and he lifted his head to smile at her. She held his face in her hands and tenderly kissed him, feeling his arms pull her in tighter. There was nothing more comforting than MacCready's arms; his body was utterly familiar, like an extension of her own by now, and he fit her so perfectly that being connected in this way sometimes felt more natural than being apart.

River liked the way they looked together, too. MacCready was all hard lines and lean muscle, rough around the edges, while she was every kind of soft in comparison. The reflection of her pale, slender form on top of him filled her with satisfaction, his wide, masculine hands on her waist.

With MacCready, every touch was _I love you_ , every smile and smirk and scowl, every time he handed her a few extra shotgun shells or shot a raider's head off before they could lay a hand on her, and fucking him was no different. He _worshipped_ her - kissed and caressed, murmured her name like it was the best word he'd ever tasted on his tongue. Sometimes when he said her name, it was low and gentle, an easy stream, the waters that run under the old north bridge in Sanctuary; sometimes it wasn't a river but a torrent, surging white-water rapids sweeping her swiftly out to sea, and her whole life was fucking water metaphors, but with MacCready they finally felt right.

She watched in the mirror as his hand hunted up the plane of her stomach, fingertips stroking over one of her nipples on the way. He found the slender column of her throat and wrapped his hand around it, thumb and forefinger resting under either side of her jaw. It was a deliciously helpless sensation, relinquishing control of her head and neck to his strong hold, trusting him implicitly with that most vulnerable part of herself, and a dark thrill of submissive pleasure danced down her spine. His hand guided her head firmly, tilting her chin up until she was eye-to-eye once more with her reflection, and the sight of his hand curled confidently around her throat was enough to make her knees weak.

Keeping her head still, River groped blindly for his other hand and he gave it to her. His grip flexed around her throat, threatening at pressure but releasing it - teasing her, even in this, and she was gonna edge the _shit_ out of him later if he kept this up.

As if he could read her mind, MacCready laughed, a husky, carefree sound - a man in his element, who knew her body and never wanted her to forget it, and there was no way she ever would, but she loved every time he felt like reminding her.

River took one last long, steady drag of breath before he slowly tightened his grasp around her throat, pressing in with the edge of his palm between thumb and index finger. The first thing she registered was the change in sound. All the ambient noise in the room - his labored breathing, the metal desk creaking beneath them, the howl of a strong wind passing over the ruined building - suddenly grew compressed and flat, reduced to small pinpoints of sound, as if over a great distance. She felt more than heard the _pump, pump, pump_ of her heartbeat in her ears, the not-quite-pain of his grip constricting her airway. Then the burn of just too little oxygen, lacing each breath she dragged in past his hold with the sweetest edge of want, of needing and not having, of grasping through darkness and finding nothing. It was panic and peace all at once, the white static of mindless pleasure, and when he rolled his hips up into her, she cried out a strangled moan and clutched frantically at his arms for support.

"Jesus, look at you," MacCready groaned, staring up at her expression in awe, and she obediently followed his gaze to the wide-eyed woman looking back at her. Her face was slack as she panted for air, utter relief and a bone-deep pleasure etched over her features. "Fuck, River, you're so fucking beautiful."

She managed a short, fond laugh, but it died on her tongue as soon as he started moving again, pinning her thigh down in his free hand. Each roll and shift of his hips drove his cock deeper and dragged it back out, and her every nerve felt like a fucking _livewire_ when she was starving for air.

Little panting breaths were all she could get out past his hand wrapped around her throat, shrieks and moans reduced to quiet gasps. In the mirror, her cheeks were starting to turn red with strain, the veins in her neck pulsing under his palm. Thoughts broke apart into formless notion, spark and sensation sinking down the length of her spine and coiling deep within her.

River ran her hands up his arm, pale fingers over tense, tan muscle, transfixed by the sight of their reflection, his hand wide and certain at her neck, just this side of too tight. He bucked his hips up into her and her eyes rolled back, legs twitching on either side of him.

She wanted to speak, to praise him and tell him how good he felt, how perfect he was, how sweet and kind and brave, how much she _loved him_ , the rant went on and on in her head - the one she normally would have spilled out in a mess of throaty syllables, fuck-jumbled and almost indiscernible, but he always seemed to like them anyways. She remembered all at once that she'd requested he fuck her senseless earlier.

 _You get whatever you want, angel,_ he'd promised her once, and damn if he didn't make good on his word.

She rolled her hips in lilting circles, rhythm unsteady, slowed by bouts of sharp, blinding pleasure that made her falter. When she felt darkness creep in at the edge of her thoughts, she tapped his arm and he immediately let go, dropping his hand to her other hip. She gripped the edge of the desk on either side of him, hair spilling down over her shoulders as she gasped for breath. "Keep going," she whimpered, grinding her hips deeper onto him.

MacCready guided her hips into motion, lifting and sinking her slowly back down onto his cock, her body quivering every time like clockwork under his hands.

"Oh, fuck," she panted. "Baby, _please_."

"Go on," he urged her, smirking, and slid one of his hands from her hip to the slick folds spread around his cock. "What do you want?"

"RJ," River whined in disapproval, rocking her hips impatiently. " _Dooon't_."

MacCready bit down on his lip and fought the urge to laugh. His fingers brushed briefly over her clit, a hint of pressure and then gone. "Ri-ver," he sang teasingly.

" _Fuck_ , baby, please make me come," she begged him, her voice high and frantic. "Please, _please_ , I need you."

With a breathless chuckle, he started firm, steady circles around her clit with his fingertips. "Well, when you ask so nicely. . ."

River groaned and jerked in response, relief warring with the frustration still furrowed in her brow as she melted into the sharp pleasure. "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, _god_ , yes."

She scraped her nails over his arms, scrabbling for purchase when he held onto her hip and slammed up into her. The fingers at her clit never let up, stroking her insistently, with determined focus, like he needed it as badly as she did.

"Want to see you come," he panted, smiling reverently up at her.

"Mmn - oh, _oh_ , yes!" Her shoulders gave a violent shudder before her whole body stiffened, a flurry of curses breaking loose as she came. He worked her through it as best he could while she thrashed and squirmed on top of him. He heard her moaning his name over and over, felt her nails in his biceps, and combined with the way she clenched tight around him, it was the perfect alignment of sensation to tip him into release.

With a strangled groan, he seized her by the hips and drove her down onto him, burying his cock deep as he came inside of her. Her lips trailed kisses over his jaw and cheek and she murmured in pleasure, rocking back against the last of his shaky thrusts. She could feel him spilling inside of her, and she shivered at the familiar, irresistible sensation.

There was a moment of dazed silence, during which MacCready realized he was suddenly _way too fucking hot_. The office had grown stifling from their activity, and he felt sweat clinging to every inch of his skin.

River let out a pathetic whimper on top of him.

"Shit," he croaked, running a hand gently down her side. "You okay?"

She laughed, and her sex clenched weakly around his softening cock, startling a hiss out of him. "Help," she squeaked faintly.

He groaned in exhaustion, splaying his arms out over the sides of the desk. "Okay. I'm on it. I'm getting up right now and putting my clothes on."

"Your dick broke me, you jackass," she complained, and then they both laughed, tired and edging toward hysterical with post-coital bliss. "Okay. Okay, I'm climbing down."

"I'm not gonna make it," he said with an exaggerated grimace as she clambered off of him on shaky legs. "Go on without me."

"You started this whole thing!" she accused him, laughing.

He reached out to grab her hand, drawing her back into the circle of his arm and kissing her softly. Humming contentedly, she relaxed against him. "How was the view?"

A blush touched her cheeks. "Enlightening."

"I get to see that for the rest of my life," he said in an awed voice, his smile almost disbelieving. "Do you know how lucky I am?"

River blinked at him, eyes wide, and the blush lingered on her face when she giggled and kissed him. "God, you're sweet."

"- she says lovingly, after I choke her and make her beg to come. You're such a romantic, River."

She laughed. "Only for you, my love. Come on, I'm not spending the night in a creepy old Fallon's. We gotta get home."

It was a tough job getting dressed again when MacCready could barely feel his legs, but eventually they both managed to get their clothes and armor back on. When he asked her if she found anything good, she shook her head, but it didn't seem to bother her so much anymore.

"Maybe the next one," she said with a smile.


End file.
